The Lost Darlings
by amidmind
Summary: This is a series of one-shots from my existing story called 'Lost and Found'. They're snippets from this universe that were cut from the story for one reason or another, but I had a hard time truly killing them. Mostly unedited, some fluff, some inconsistency with the story/character, and some humor. Enjoy!
1. Accidental Voyeur

A/N: Takes place at Caer Bronach, the day after the siege.

* * *

Feeling fresh from her bath and needing to stretch her unused legs after a long night's sleep, Gwen took to touring Caer Bronach.

Turning a corner of the battlements, Gwen saw him at the next bend, some ways off, perched on the edge of the balustrade, tense and waiting. Curiosity drew her in and she cleared her throat upon her approach, as he was fixated on whatever he was doing.

From several paces away, Hawke jumped, then rounded irritably, ready to pounce on whosoever interrupted him, until he saw her, the Inquisitor, drawing ever nearer. He held something behind his back though refused to bring it into her view.

"Hawke." She slowed her pace and nodded friendly enough. They had never been alone before.

"Inquisitor?" He lifted his eyebrow, hoping to convey a question without actually having to use the words.

When she didn't answer his nonexistent question, he decided to try clarity. He stood up straighter, hoping to discourage her from lingering with his chill tone. "What are you doing up here? Doesn't the Inquisitor have loads of business to attend to… elsewhere?"

"I was just wandering the keep. Enjoy the sights." Attempting to peer around him, she started to wonder what exactly the known trickster was up to. Gwen leaned onto the battlements which looked out over the courtyard. Below, she saw two soldiers walking buckets of water to one of the towers. The bathing tower to be precise.

Hawke couldn't help but crack a grin. "Me too."

Gwen snapped her head back to Hawke. "Wait a moment. What _are_ you doing up here?" Her eyes narrowed and she walked briskly to the place where the man stood.

Taking determined steps toward her, he tried to catch her arm, but failed. "Inquisitor, wait."

From her new position at the bend in the battlements, she peered out to the courtyard again. This time, from her vantage point, she could see clearly through a large window into the bathing tower as a very wet, very _nude_ Alistair stepped out of the water and walked out of sight.

Gwen's eyes were wide as saucers when she finally turned to meet her rogue companion.

"Damn it! You made me miss him." Hawke's lips curled into a smirk as he produced the spyglass from behind his back.

"I… I can't believe I just witnessed that, _Sweet Maker_." The Inquisitor's face was flush, but she kept talking. "I also can't believe that he is _still_ in the bath. What was it, two hours ago that I left him?"

"Nearly." Hawke grinned. "Now, stand aside. There's definitely more to see.'

* * *

P.S. Cut because Hawke is sort of "nice" in this, and I couldn't find a way to make him a jerk when he's being a peeping Tom.


	2. In which Cassandra scolds Cullen

A/N: Best when read after Chapter 16 in Lost and Found

* * *

A forceful series of knocks sounded at the door to his office below.

Cullen was half dressed, hoping to return to the security of his armor after his spontaneous sparring session with the Grey Warden, Alistair. He stood perturbed, in the middle of his loft, shirtless, bootless, and beltless, having discarded his sweat covered garments into a pile in the corner of the room.

"Come in," he called out amicably to the encroaching guest, but he mumbled to himself in irritation. "One minute of peace is all I ask."

The door opened with a gentle creak and his visitor plodded in with heavy boots.

"I'll be down in a moment."

One by one his boots came on, and his belt was looped around his waist in haste. Then he hoisted his armor onto his shoulder and started down the ladder. It only took a few rungs to see who graced him with their presence.

"Cassandra?"

The Seeker spun around, gaping her mouth at the sight of the unarmed Commander descended the latter, again shirtless. Refocusing, she snapped her mouth shut as she remembered why she was there.

In her typical rigid tone, she spoke, averting her eyes. "Perhaps you should have waited until you were fully dressed before returning to work, Commander."

Cullen chuckled. Reaching the floor, he strolled to his desk, laying his accoutrements on his chair. He canted his head, pointing to her feet. "By the sound, I thought you were one of my men, who have seen me in worse states."

Cassandra tried not to look offended at his mention of her thundering gait or attract her mind to what he could mean by 'worse state.' "Well… I would have appreciated your discretion. Though I suppose you're fresh out given your lack of such with the men in the sparring ring."

The former Templar had a black tunic over his head and spoke from underneath it in surprise. "I beg your pardon?"

"The sparring match: Varric said these games have been approved by you. I came looking for an explanation, and to give you a much needed reprimand."

"Yes, I approved the games." His eyes narrowed at her as he smoothed the fabric, tucking it into his trousers, which were open at the front. "And thank you for making me feel as if I'm back in Templar training, being rapped on the knuckles by the Knight Captain."

Cassandra looked to the door, giving him a modicum of privacy as he dressed. "I must ask you to stop the games."

"For what purpose?"

Her head pivoted back in defiance. "They are dangerous and frivolous. And today's _spectacle_ was borderline… immoral!"

Cullen was working his buckle into the well-worn hole of his belt, when he stopped suddenly, staring at her in disbelief. "What are you talking about?"

Cassandra's arm flew toward the sparring ring in a wide gesture. "You were caught half-dressed, the object of gambling, and fist fighting with a newly recruited member of the Inquisition, after which you solicited the Inquisitor to share in a _very_ public show of passion! The Chantry sisters in attendance were mortified that you, a former Templar and to the lesser, she, the Herald of Andraste, were involved in such a display."

" _Maker's breath_." His belt secure, the man sat, covering his face with his hand.

"Are we here to encourage gambling and roughhousing Commander?"

"We're trying to train green recruits, _Seeker_. They need something more than drills. The improvisation on the sparring court is akin to the trials on the battlefield."

"The recruits need to become skilled warriors. The games teach them to treat war as such. War is not a game."

"I respectfully disagree. We make a move; the enemy makes a countermove. We need to be cunning, spontaneous, _and_ skilled in war. This teaches them that and meanwhile, they have a little fun. What's the harm in that?"

Cassandra shook her head, dismissing his explanation, while moving on to her other point. "The kiss between you and the Inquisitor—"

"She agreed to it too." The man shrugged, confused. "Why are you really here accosting me?"

"Because… you must apologize."

"Tell me why I must." He droned out, helpless against Cassandra's onslaught.

"That was a stolen kiss; you know where her heart lies."

Recognition hit him like a punch in the face. "You're a romantic."

She clenched her jaw, blushing at his assessment. "That has nothing to do with why I'm here, or why I think you should apologize. She is my friend, and I believe she felt forced into kissing you."

"Forced?" Cullen laughed aloud. "That wasn't the kiss of a woman coerced."

Cassandra pinched her face in disapproval. She tensed, squeezing her arms as they laid crossed over her chest. "Set your eyes upon another."

"Any recommendations?" Their eyes met and he winked.

Cassandra was flustered, so she coughed and turned her eyes down. "No."

With a deep sigh, Cullen softened his tone. "I'm sorry about the fight. I allowed myself to be goaded into the fray. Hawke is a thorn in my paw."

"Ignore him. I know you have an insurmountable will, Cullen."

"That's high praise, coming from you, Cassandra."

"I only meant—the lyrium withdrawal…"

He stopped her before she ventured into forbidden territory. "I know."

"How are you faring?" Cassandra inquired cautiously.

"The fight helped. Reminded me of my younger years."

"You were both handicapped beyond the blindfold."

"I still won." He smirked, seeing the tightly coiled woman before him loosen up a bit, and smile back.

The Commander respected her, enough to share the secret of the true cost of his refusal to take lyrium. Part of him wanted to appease the woman he respected, and part of him wanted to see her cheeks flush again.

So, Cullen sat forward in his chair and steepled his hands atop his desk. He lifted a wary eye to her, smirking at the finish of his words. "If I sent letters of apology to these Chantry sisters, and apologized directly to the Inquisitor, would I gain your favor once again?"

"That would… suffice." Her smile widened and another bright blush inflamed her cheeks all the way down to her chest. Suddenly, she was glad she always wore a full armor set around the keep. She'd need it if he continued saying such things to her in such a low, husky voice.

Secretly, she hoped he would do it again, and soon.


End file.
